As Wolves Love Lambs
by Copper2Telluride
Summary: Raphael has been trapped in the forest for far longer than any man should have to endure. With his memories fragmented and monsters knocking down the doors every night, it's hard to imagine the situation improving. The infection in his own body is getting worse by the day. Something needs to change soon, or he won't last much longer.


The growling, it's coming from every side at once. They're especially active tonight, scraping at the wooden walls like they know he's in here. If they did though, he'd be dead already. The wardrobe moves a couple inches towards him before he gently and quietly pushes it back into place, trying not to imagine the beast on the other side. He can hear it though, breathing its ragged breath. Even smell it, the putrid smell of rot and death plain in the air. Whatever is on the other side must be horrifying. The sound of a door opening and closing alerts him that the creature has left, giving him a moment's reprieve. Truly only for a moment, as a few seconds later, a banging can be heard on the barricaded window. Wood chips shower across the floor as the boards he so painstakingly nailed up buckle and break under the pressure. With nothing to do but hope and hold the pistol tighter, he closes his eyes and listens. Grunts of exertion from the monster outside as it slams its weight into the window. Growling and yelling as a dog and a savage appear to be fighting each other just outside the front door. And, as always, the whispers. Are they really out there with the rest of the beasts, or are they in his own mind? He's so damn tired of them distracting him from what he should really focus on. Such as the final smash of his barricade being busted down. As he waits for footsteps to indicate the monster has climbed in, he keeps his eyes closed. The sound doesn't come, and eventually he has to crack an eye open. What he finds are rays of sunlight pouring in through the shattered window, signaling the end of another night.

28 days. Raphael's been in this wretched forest for 28 days now. He has convinced himself that he's in hell. He has to believe that. The alternative, that this exists on earth, is just too frightening. He used to have delusions of finding a way out of these woods, but those perished after about the 15th day. Every night he comes even closer to death, even closer to them breaking in and slaughtering him. It's always a near miss. Just a couple seconds more and he'd be done for. This was stressful the first few times, but the human mind can only endure so much. Now it's just routine. Barricade the windows, turn on the generator, push the wardrobe. It's as mindless as breathing at this point. The only thing keeping him going are the rare and vague flashes of things before this life. Yelling at a group of kids outside his flat for vandalizing it again, eating lunch with a friend and catching up, sitting in a classroom as an overenthusiastic professor drones on and on… they're all he has at this point.

Today is a morning like any other, The Trader waiting patiently in the middle of the room. Having no need for anything he sells today, Raphael walks right past the heavily clothed man without even a greeting. Politeness is not part of the routine.

The ground is covered in the roots of the many trees, acting as the lifeline of the forest. He often wonders what chopping them apart would do. Would it hurt the forest? Can it be hurt? It doesn't matter; he knows they'd all grow back by morning. He's gotten used to traversing them at this point anyway, almost never tripping anymore. Out here, it's a death sentence if you do. Massive trees provide enough canopy cover that he must pull out a torch at certain points or risk walking into something menacing. As he stares at the light of the torch, he can't help but wonder if the flames would burn these trees. He's had many daydreams about watching the whole place go up in flames, but only dead wood ignites easily. And the forest is very much alive.

Raphael makes his way through the small thicket and to the wolfman's camp, barely paying enough attention to avoid the poisonous mushrooms littering the ground. When he arrives at the camp, the 2olf is standing stoically by his campfire as usual, sneering at the approaching male.

"Rough night? Oh, who am I kidding, they're always rough for you, aren't they?"

His voice is deep and gravely, and his tone is very obviously mocking. Without a word in response, Raphael steps close to the canine and stares at the pattern on his hunting jacket. The little hole with blood stains around it clearly advertising that it did not always belong to him. He was going to say something, something about trade, but all words have gone now. Without being given a response, the wolf continues, now a little perturbed by the dead-eyed stare of the man inches from him.

"Meat? Has this place finally broken you? Are you here to appreciate the one beautiful thing in this hellhole?"

The wolfman gestures to himself, but stops short as he notices something on the man's face. Tears. They're openly sliding down his skin, creating trails in the dirt covering his face. Suddenly, the man lunges forward, taking the wolf off guard and managing to wrap his arms around him. The silent crying is replaced by loud bawling only for a second, before the man pushes his face into the thick fabric of the jacket, muffling any further weeping.

The wolf is stunned for longer than he should be. This is the last thing he expected from the man, even if he has been hanging by a thread. To hug a creature that could just as easily rip him to shreds... he really is that far gone. Finally, the wolf regains enough sense to begin to shove the man off, but he's interrupted by a quiet, desperate voice.

"...please..."

Once again, the wolf finds himself stunned. That voice is so weak, so vulnerable. Doesn't he know where he is? Vulnerability will get you killed. Still, this physical contact is the first he's had in months. The human part of him can't help but desire it after so long. He stands still as the smaller man weeps into his chest, paws twitching towards him occasionally, but never actually touching him. Neither of them speak, but Raphael's silence isn't from lack of trying. Every word comes out as a choked sob, muffled by the dirty fabric of the jacket.

Soon, even his legs give out beneath him, dropping Raphael to his knees, where he continues to sob. wolfman takes this as an opportunity to escape and backs away from the man still crying in his camp. He stares at the pathetic sight, yellow eyes scanning the crumpled form. He looks so tired. That is certainly unusual, considering the infected don't have to eat, drink, or sleep. But this one, he looks about to pass out. That's not the only oddity. If he doesn't drink, how can he cry?

"Meat? I-"

"Raphael..."

"What?"

"My name... it's Raphael..."

"Well, Meat, you aren't going to last long like this. You better pull your shit together and do what you came here to do, or you won't make it to tomorrow."

No response from the curled up man, even his sobbing has stopped. He just lays there, motionless, resting his head on the soft ground. Finally, the silence starts to piss off the wolf, who now takes it as a sign of disrespect. After he just let this disgusting infected hug him to keep from going mad, he has the nerve to go and do it anyway. With a growl, he stomps over and kicks the man in the chest. This causes him to roll over, but elicits no other response. His eyes are closed, and the wolf almost writes him off as dead, but the subtle sound of breathing can be heard, as well as the slight movement of his chest. Is he... sleeping? Somehow this revelation is more disturbing than if he had died.

The next few hours are confusing for the wolfman. He's left with a sleeping human in his camp, who cannot be roused by even violent means. He's definitely tried those. Even if he wakes up before the night, he's going to be completely unprepared to survive it. What exactly is a wolf to do in this situation? He normally defaults to, "If it's a problem, kill it," but that doesn't solve anything here. The wolf is now pacing around his camp, scowling and trying to figure out what to do.

"Fucking human… gonna get himself killed… shouldn't be my responsibility…"

A dog wanders up to the camp, sniffing the air in interest of the new smell it detects. It's as mutated as every other dog in the forest, but it acts mostly like a normal animal. The wolf gives it a cursory glance, then returns to pacing. The wildlife ignores him for the most part, so there's no need to kick it out of his camp. He even feeds the dogs the extra meat from whatever he hunts. This time though, the creature starts growling and barking at something. When the wolf looks, he sees the dog getting awfully close to the incapacitated man, a hunger in its eyes. Quickly, the wolf grabs a slab of meat from inside one of the tents and tosses it out of the camp. The rancid meat attracts the dog instantly, who grabs it up in its jaws and carries it off into the forest.

"Not even dark yet, and you already need my help…"

He looks to the sky, at the setting sun, letting out a frustrated sigh. He has to do something now, if he's gonna do anything. With a snarl, he swipes his claws across his tent in frustration, shredding the canvas and allowing the wind to flow freely through it. Then, just as incensed, he starts gathering some weaponry. He justifies this by claiming that he wants to learn how the human was able to sleep and can't do that if he dies. He's never seen an infected creature sleep, and they don't have to eat or drink. This human was most certainly infected, yet there he lies, counting sheep.

After tossing the sleeping man onto the bed, the wolf finds a few boards and nails around the ruined house, which he uses to repair the broken window. Then, just as the moon starts to rise, he turns on the generator and pushes the wardrobe in front of the doorway. Leaning on his assault rifle, he stares at the human's sleeping form with disdain. Why is he, a great and beautiful wolf, missing out on sleep to protect such a puny creature? Still, he's made the decision now. Nothing to do but follow through.

The first hour goes by quickly, only punctuated by muffled noises outside. They never seem to even touch the walls. The wolf has taken to sitting on the bed, listening to the constant sound of breathing from the human. It occasionally hitches, giving the idea that he's probably dreaming. He sure has a lot to dream about after 28 days of sleeplessness, most of it terrible. As much as he hates the situation, he doesn't envy the position of the human. A bump against the door perks his ears up, and the rifle is in his paws in seconds. No second knock comes though, and whatever it was meanders off after just a few seconds. If this is really all the human had to deal with each night, he has no excuse to be so broken.

The rest of the night passes uneventfully. The 2olf almost falls asleep at one point, but a well-timed thump from outside jerks him awake. Must've been one of the creatures falling over. The sun starts to rise and as soon as it does, the wolf is up and rummaging through the house for something to eat. Expecting to find nothing, he's rather surprised when he comes across a stash of bread, still fresh enough to eat. It's not ideal, but he'll eat anything after the long night he's had.

With a full belly, he goes back into the bedroom, staring once again at the sleeping human. He steps closer and starts shaking him, starting off gentle at first before getting rougher and rougher.

"Wake the fuck up, Me-"

"I'm up, I'm up!"

The human pushes the paws away and rolls over, looking extremely groggy. His voice is hoarse from not using his throat for so long, but he does appear to be waking up. Letting out a yawn that causes the wolf to scoff, he starts standing up, rubbing his tired eyes. Finally, he sees the wolf in front of him and recoils, shocked.

"What are you doing here? And what happened?"

"Hmph. You fell asleep, Meat."

"What?! How?! When?"

"Yesterday morning. You came to me, cried like a little bitch, then passed out."

The human pauses as the memories start to come back to him, and he sits back down on the bed, amazed that he had actually slept in it. He looks back up at the wolf, who's clearly getting a little impatient. The hood of his jacket is also down, exposing his ears that have been hidden previously. They stand up tall, adding another few inches to the creature's already impressive height.

"So you... carried me back here? And wait, yesterday? So another night passed? How am I still alive?"

"Because I wanted you to be, Meat. I wanted to know how you were able to sleep, but you clearly know nothing, so I shouldn't have bothered."

The wolf makes a move to leave, but is interrupted by a hand suddenly grabbing his paw, making him turn on a heel.

"Wait! I-I need to say thank you."

"You sure as hell do. It won't happen again either."

Though his paw is released, the wolf doesn't leave. He continues to look at Raphael, though the expression on his face is curious now. Like he's trying to put the pieces of a puzzle together in his head. He suddenly takes a step forward, frightening the man and causing him to lean further back. If one thing can be said about the wolfman, it's that he's unpredictable. He can be your comrade one moment and then a predator the next. Raphael speaks up, if only to parse why he's being looked at so intensely.

"Um… what is it?"

The wolf's paws are suddenly on the human, pressing into his shoulders and keeping him in place. He yelps and protests in response but doesn't even come close to breaking free from the wolf's grip. A long snout is pressed against Raphael's neck, and he can feel the dampness of the wolf's nose rub against his skin. Finally, the wolf speaks.

"You smell…"

He pauses to press his nose hard against the man's collarbone and inhale greatly.

"...good."

Confused and frightened at the same time, Raphael flails against the overpowering grip and finally squirms away, but it's pretty obvious that the wolf released him. He doesn't look malicious, and his expression shows only surprise, which quickly calms the human down a little. He takes a few breaths before responding, looking very confused.

"T-thank you? What does that mean exactly?"

"It means you're not infected. If you were, I'd smell it a mile away. I didn't notice until now due to the horrible vapors you insist on pumping into this house, but you're definitely clear."

Wide blue eyes meet wide yellow eyes as they stare at each other. Raphael is in complete disbelief, while the wolf is still trying to piece together everything. The last 28 days have been completely turned on their head. They sit in silence for quite a long time, before finally Raphael speaks up, still in disbelief.

"Clear? Like cured? Are you sure you're not just missing my scent?"

"My nose doesn't just miss scents!"

"I know, I know! Sorry… it's just… how?"

"How would I know, Meat?!"

Silence falls once again, both of them realizing that they have no answers for what just happened. So, nothing out of the ordinary in the forest. But it usually isn't good things that happen for no reason. After a minute or two of just waiting, Raphael's expression breaks into a smile. It's the first one he's wore since he got here, and the muscles barely remember how to perform the action. They manage though, and he's sitting there smiling like an idiot in front of the wolf.

"Why are you smiling like that? It's not like you're in any way safe. You're still trapped here."

"I know, but... I just realized something."

He continues smiling, now staring right at the wolf with an elated grin on his face.

"I'm hungry."


End file.
